


It Was Just A Prank!

by Dynobot_Slam



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Amica Endurae, Angst with a Happy Ending, Budding Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magnetize, Matchmaking, Pre-Relationship, prank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynobot_Slam/pseuds/Dynobot_Slam
Summary: Rodimus pranks his TiC, hoping to set him up with his dream-mech, only to make things worse. Ratchet will come around! He knows it!





	It Was Just A Prank!

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of [this](https://twitter.com/qiu84120458/status/1094840890118549504?s=07) Twitter post.

Oh _yes_. This was the perfect way to get back at Drift. This was too good of a prank to let go, not to mention that Drift might even thank him later for it.

Rodimus snickered to himself quietly. He was definitely Drift's best friend. The other mech would have no choice to admit it after this. Rubbing his servos together, Rodimus made his way towards Drift's habsuite.

* * *

Drift onlined slowly, optics blinking blearily while his frame booted up. He stretched languidly, soft blankets sliding down him to create a nice sensation. He slowly sat up and removed his covers.

He felt like he was still half in recharge, but that was the perfect time to meditate. He started with light exercise, enough to get his energon flowing, before diving right into his morning yoga. Each position cleared his mind and fostered positive energy around him.

When he was finished, he hit the wash racks attached to his room. Thankfully, today was his day off. With any luck, he could grab a quick cube for breakfast and practice with his swords until lunch time. He had to make sure that Ratchet fueled at least once a day, Primus knows that the trusty ambulance wouldn't take care of himself while there was work to be done.

Maybe today would be the day that he finally asked Ratchet to come to Swerve's with him. He felt his cheeks flush. Sure he and Ratchet had been at Swerve's at the same time; Ratchet was at Swerve's many nights. He'd never actually asked Ratchet to come _with him_ though.

He just couldn't work up the nerve. What if Ratchet really did dislike him? They bantered and argued with each other constantly, but Drift could swear that there was something more to it. There was for him at least.

He finished washing and dried off quickly. He took one last look at his habsuite to ensure that he wasn't missing anything and opened his door. A can of some type of spray busted all over him, spraying him excessively with some kind of mist. The next thing he knew, he was forced against something warm and firm, a loud _**clang**_ resounding through the hallway.

“Kid, what the Pit?!”

Drift froze then started furiously pulling away trying to separate himself from the medic. “I'm sorry, Ratchet! Ah, Primus! Something sprayed on me, and I can't wrench myself off.” He kept trying futilely.

Ratchet scoffed darkly and rolled his optics. “This has Rodimus written all over it. He did tell me that he thought you were extremely ill, and you seem more than alright to me. I swear I'm gonna chew him a new afthole.”

Ratchet huffed a hot exvent, and it brushed against Drift's face teasingly. He had his head tilted in the universal ‘comming’ position. “We're going to have to work together to make it to the medbay. I've commed First Aid; hopefully, he’ll intercept us and help us there himself.”

Drift nodded, too nervous to really talk at the moment. One of his peds was thankfully stuck on top of Ratchet's, so when he moved back, Drift followed through with his other foot easily. He couldn't help but notice Ratchet seemed even more agitated than usual, and he didn't have to read his aura to see it.

This close, he could see the deep frown and bags under his eyes. It was impossible to ignore his tired optics and furrowed brow ridges. He looked over Ratchet’s shoulder; he wouldn't appreciate being scrutinized.

They turned a corner and Ratchet stopped abruptly. “Come out with it, Drift. Although if it has anything to do with Primus, can it right now.”

Drift swallowed before speaking confidently. “You haven't recharged in a while, have you? You're tired as Pit. Ratty, you're going to offline if you don't take care of yourself.”

“Number one: Stop calling me ‘Ratty’. How many times do I have to tell you? Number two: I will be fine. I know my limits perfectly well, thank you. I don't know why you insist on trying to coddle me. You don't even really care, do you? I've always wondered if you just did this because you feel like Primus wants you to, or some other slag. Save it for someone else; I'm not a pity case.” Ratchet picked up walking again, at a faster pace.

“Ratchet, no! I don't pity you! I try to take care of you because I like you! Primus has nothing to do with it, Ratty! You've misunderstood me.” Drift's emotions were caught in his intake, choking him. He'd just confessed, but that didn't even matter.

Of all the people who could misunderstand him, he’d hoped it would never be Ratchet, yet here they were. Drift's optics darted along Ratchet's face, trying to glean anything from those stern features. His scowl deepened, and he clammed up, shuffling backward quickly but never speaking a word to Drift.

The swordsmech exvented lightly, trying to calm himself. Nothing good came of spontaneous reactions to negative emotions, so if he just calmed down and stayed rational, he could handle his emotions later, privately. It wasn't like he’d never been rejected before…

Actually, he hadn't. Deadlock was interface on wheels and unmaker-may-care, irresistible. The power and confidence helped, and Drift...well Drift had only ever wanted to ask one mech. Regardless, he wasn't a mechling anymore, he could handle his issues properly no matter how much his spark hurt.

Thankfully First Aid hurried along the corridor to them not long after, but the ride on the stretcher to the medbay, Drift overtop of Ratchet, was embarrassing as Pit thanks to everyone hooting at them. Drift could physically feel how hot his finials had gotten from his embarrassed blushing, but Ratchet had let him hide in his neck cables without a word or any resistance. Up close, he could smell Ratchet, hospital sterilization, and hope, and home, and let himself be centered, comforted by the familiar smell.

* * *

One hour later, they were miraculously separated. First Aid had been laughing lightly the whole time, much to Ratchet's annoyance, but he knew the other mech was amazed that the prank had actually worked so well.

When they'd finally been given the clear, Drift thanked First Aid graciously and bowed deeply to Ratchet. “I'm sorry, Ratchet. Please get some rest though. You look like you're about to pass out any second.” He darted off, not giving Ratchet the chance to scold him.

First Aid giggled softly. “Ratchet, c'mon. He really—”

“No. Stop meddling.” The CMO turned to walk to his office, but First Aid wasn't done.

“Ratchet, you're not just hurting yourself, ” he started, pulling out his CMO voice, “you're hurting Drift. You can lie to yourself all you want, but anyone with half a processor can see how much he cares about you and how much you care about him. Being a martyr isn't always a good thing, you know?”

Ratchet just looked at First Aid, not having expected his own technique from the younger ‘bot, but he wasn't going to let First Aid get away with talking to him like that, future CMO or not.

Before he could even argue though, First Aid was pushing him out of the medbay, and he heard the telltale *beep* of the lock engaging. He tried his overrides, but First Aid must've set it to where only a higher ranking officer could enter. Ratchet cussed loudly and kicked the door before heading to his own suite, he might as well get recharge since they were basically forcing him.

* * *

Rodimus opened his habsuite door and was surprised when Drift just shuffled in, quiet and obviously distraught. He followed the other mech silently as he laid on the couch.

Roddy sat down and gently pulled Drift's head into his lap to pet his helm. “Wanna talk about it, Sweetspark?”

Drift curled in on himself, pressing into Rodimus's abdomen. His next words were mumbled, but he heard them well enough. “Ratchet hates me.”

He pouted; how could his plan have failed?! It was foolproof! He sighed lightly and rubbed his amica's back. “Oh, Sweetspark, you should know that isn't true. What makes you say that?”

Drift looked up with watery optics and swallowed thickly. “I accidentally told him I liked him, and he ignored me. He didn't talk to me at all! I explained to him that I worried about him ‘cuz I like him and not ‘cuz I'm religious, and he stopped responding to me completely!”

The tears were starting to streak down his amica's cheeks, so Roddy kissed the trails up to his optics then all over his face. “Oh, Love. I'm so sorry, but you know, he might have just frozen up. Maybe he was just shocked and didn't know how to handle that news? Anyway, I know he doesn't hate you, okay? Trust me on that one.”

Drift huffed, but relented, letting Rodimus hold him and press love through his field. “Ol’ Hatchet probably just didn't know what to do and just shut down. He gets nervous, too. Just give it a day or two and you guys’ll be back at it.”

Rodimus felt like slag. His plan had only hurt Drift which was something he never wanted. His platonic soulmate deserved more than that. Drift hadn't even been angry with him either, had come to him for comfort. He pulled the other mech closer. “I love you, Drifter.”

* * *

It took a week before Ratchet was ready to be around Drift again. He decided that courting Drift might not be such a terrible idea, but he had no idea how to make up for ignoring him for a week. He didn't really want to apologize, but he was going to have to. Drift deserved at least that.

So he found himself at his paramour's door, knocking lightly. He wished he'd found a better gift to apologize with, but he simply didn't have the time, so here he stood with a can of polish. Thankfully it was tasteful, mostly utilitarian but with a uniquely spiced scent. He’d never used it, never wanted to; he had his own preferred brand of polish to use.

“Ratchet? Why are you here?”

He hadn't realized that he'd been in his head so long. Before the other had a chance to speak, Ratchet cleared his vocalizer and presented the polish. “I...I apologize for the other day.” His face scratched up, distastefully. “I shouldn't have shut you out or assumed things about you. You should...would you like to come to Swerve's with me?”

Ratchet looked up, meeting Drift's optics. He didn't remember this being so difficult in med school, but that was probably because he didn't actually want more from any of his hookups. He definitely wanted more from Drift. He wanted to wake up next to him every morning and go to sleep with him every night, and all that started here, with asking him on a date.

Drift took the polish, cradled it to his chassis really, and nodded mutely. “Okay, uhm, yeah. I'll put this polish down, and we can go.” He smiled lightly at Ratchet, even though it didn't quite reach his optics.

It was strange seeing Drift so upset, but that was what Ratchet was here for, to lift his spirits and apologize for being an afthole. He contemplated the best course of action to make Drift feel better without him thinking that Ratchet was faking.

Drift came out of his suite, and the door shut. Ratchet shuffled for a moment before clearing his intake. “If you wanted, I wouldn't be averse to holding your servo or escorting you with your servo on my arm.”

He felt his cheeks darken slightly with a blush, but hearing Drift's soft chuckle and feeling his smallest digit wrap around his own was worth it. “I didn't peg you for the PDA type, Ratty,” Drift murmured warmly.

“Yes, well, that's why we're on a date right now, isn't it? I really didn't mean to hurt you. Just...forgive an old ambulance for his stubbornness?”

Drift sighed lightly, amused. “I suppose, since you are older than dirt.”

Ratchet spluttered lightly before coming up with some very creative names for his new sparkmate. He could get used to this. Nothing made him happier than watching Drift smile as he teased him. Maybe he wouldn't have to magnetize Rodimus’ pedes to his aft after all.

**Author's Note:**

> What a ride. :) Thank you for kudos, comments, and bookmarks!
> 
> Also, I have a Discord server for Transformers Roleplaying. ;) https://discord.gg/uwHpRm8


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